


Sometimes

by forgetful01



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Other, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetful01/pseuds/forgetful01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Synne, just some late night angsty feeling dumps with fictional characters mmmyup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes

Sometimes it felt as if Karkat had never forgotten the Incident, as it was referred to. And sometimes you felt like you could forget it. In the darkness of your room it would all just seem like a bad dream. Something that only came about in the worst of nightmares, not something real and physical and lingering. But there were little reminders everywhere. Old boxes of robotic bits stowed away in corners, collecting dust in their uselessness. An occasional creak of a door that sounded like a Leo on the 'hunt' and the lack of a chipper voice was noticeable in every silent hallway.

At first, Karkat insisted no one talk about it. Forget and move on, and for a while that's what it seemed like was going to happen. If it weren't for the hushed whispers that always managed to reach your ears, or the dark suspicious looks that shot your way when you walked by. If Karkat noticed any of this, he showed no sign. It was like he was covering his ears and shutting his eyes, screaming that everything was alright. He didn't want to face the reality of the past just as much as you didn't. And it was painful to watch, especially when you noticed the changes. It started small, you followed him around more and he seemed to become accustomed to it, less remarks and more simple agreements. There came to be times you would want more than that, holding his hand and asking to sleep in his room instead of yours. The hand holding was unnerving to him at first, but you just told him you liked holding his hand because it was him. He might have made some comment to that but you can't bring yourself to try and remember what it was, and he would hold your hand in return.

But sometimes he looked at you strange. Not fear, but apprehension. Like he was just waiting around for you to fall just so he could prove that he could catch you this time. You were a chance for him to redeem himself in some way, and it bothered you. As much as you wanted to distance yourself, you steadily got closer. Calling him 'best friend' in a softer way, a pet name. He never commented on it and all around you were accusing stares, waiting for the claws to turn deadly and bloody. And you told yourself over and over that wasn't who you were. But you could never quite believe it.

And sometimes you found yourself wishing for the days that you were strictly pale for your best friend. Wishing for those moments where you wouldn't find yourself staring at his eyes, or his mouth, or his hands. When you didn't have to laugh it off and pretend it was a simple act of friendship. And sometimes you felt as if he wished for those days when he felt safe around you.

And sometimes you wish you could take it all back.


End file.
